Alyssa Feigelson (3.30)

In his article “Rarely Kosher: Studying Jews of Color in North America” from the Journal of American Jewish History, Lewis Gordon establishes common misconceptions about the complicated nature of the concept of race, especially as it relates to Jews. However, since his article plans on discussing the experience of Jews of Color, he attempts to give a brief history of Jews as a racialized group, for context of how Jews and Jews viewed as being “of Color” experience the world as an ethnic minority. The significance of this study is evident in Gordon’s claim that there is “reluctance to conjoin discussions of Jews with discussions of race” (105). He attempts to prove that while there is reluctance, due to the uncomfortable nature of addressing the history of racial prejudice, it is crucial to understanding how Jews interact with the concept of race.

In his case studies, Gordon acknowledges that he cannot cover every community of Jews across the world that might be considered “Jews of Color” and instead chooses to focus on Africa and the Caribbean in order to “offer insight into the situation in other parts of the globe” (107). This lends a strength his article, because it allows audiences to understand in advance potential shortcomings and understand that this is not a full view, but a look at a microcosm of a larger phenomenon. Another strong part of Gordon’s essay is found in his discussion of the origin of Jewish “whiteness.” Rather than claiming Jews as a group were originally white, or became white due to generations of assimilation, Gordon proposes an interesting alternative that accounts for the “dual identities as Jews and as members of their particular empires” (110). He looks at how subjective the concept of race is, based not only on skin tones but politics.

The most confusing part of Gordon’s article, for me, was some of the methodological jargon that I found difficult to follow. For example, he discusses an issue of “disciplinary decadence,” which he defines as when “practitioners deify their disciplines and treat their methodologies as all encompassing or godlike in scope” (107). Neither the term nor the definition are easily understood, and could have benefitted from some clearer language. His conclusion, as well, is short and does not offer a summation or takeaway from his case studies.

Despite these shortcomings, overall Gordon’s article is well-written and offers an insight into an area of Jewish history that is often overlooked and still affects many in the Jewish community today. As he states in his conclusion, acceptance of Jews of Color today “depends on the hospitability of congregations and the commitment of rabbis” (116). This proves only more that we as Jews need to study the history he presents, and learn from it for ourselves and for the strength of our community.

This image was found on the cover of La Luz magazine on August 25, 1933. The future imagined by the artist does not look too far off from what would eventually unfold, though there is no indication that the people being crushed by the giant swastika are Jewish (or Roma, etc.)

The fact that even across the Atlantic diasporic Jews were terrified for the future of their coreligionists indicates that there was a strong sense of community, even across great distances and cultural divides.

In Israel’s Shaar Elisha Camp through the lens of Covid-19, Rhona Siedelman revisits the history of quarantine in Israel, and draws conclusions about the potential for the negative social impact of quarantining, through examining the ineffectuality of the Shaar Elisha quarantine camp.     Siedelmen argues that Quarantine’s history of social control, and the divisions the process naturally creates, can point towards its potential to exacerbate divisions and result in a “setting apart” that serves to enable discrimination.  Shaar Elisha quarantined immigrants in a manner that was entirely ineffectual, and that detected no diseases that were cause for quarantine.  Siedelman argues that the Shaar Elisha’s primary function was to segregate immigrants at a time when a significant portion of Israel had misgivings about newcomers, and, like many quarantines, served more to “discriminate against marginalized, vulnerable communities” than to protect the health of the Israeli community.   This history, Siedelman argues, and the potential for discrimination enabled through quarantine that it points toward, must be understood in the era of Covid-19 to avoid repeating the mistakes of the past and allowing the fear brought on by potential illness to foment prejudice.

   Siedelman’s argument clearly establishes the potential for quarantine as a method of segregation, and clearly and concisely explains the sort of social othering a quarantine can create through examining the function of Shaar Elisha as a method of segregating immigrants, rather than as a method of effectively protecting Israel’s populace. Siedelman’s argument focuses on the ineffectual and unnecessary quarantining present at Shaar Elisha nearly exclusively, and makes a compelling case for how the “cross-cultural act of separation” was used to assuage the unease of the Israeli population.  In so doing, she demonstrates how quarantine can both exacerbate divisions and be used as a means of social control.  However, by focusing exclusively on the Shaar Elisha ( and briefly on the biblical history of quarantine), Siedelmen fails to demonstrate that this sort of effect happens whenever quarantines are established.  The Shaar Elisha situation is one in which there was truly no disease to control, which makes it notably different from quarantine practice in the modern coronavirus pandemic, where lethality is high.    Presumably, the actual danger potentially posed by a serious illness would exacerbate the sorts of fears and divisions that can be created by a quarantine, but although Siedelman points to the “depressing historical predictability of the social outcomes of the pandemic,” and states that “what we are all experiencing…  … fits predictably within quarantine history,” she fails to establish the exact, specific relationship the self-quarantine demands of Covid-19 have to the sort of physical barriers present in Shaar Elisha- or that between their consequences, leaving it up to the reader to establish more direct connections.  The relationship between the sorts of prejudice enabled by quarantining immigrants and the sorts of prejudice enabled by media portrayal of a pandemic may not drawn be explicitly, but seems compelling all the same, given common knowledge of the sorts of biases that have become prevalent throughout the pandemic’s course, so it is possible this issue is not severe..  It is possible that Siedelman’s argument may have benefitted from briefly employing the social consequences of pandemic situations and pandemic quarantining to better align to  current events, despite her focus being Israel’s history of the matter.

Sarah Brownlee

March 22, 2021

In his article, “Heroes and Victims Without Villains: Plague in Early Modern Prague,” Joshua Teplitsky discusses the impact both plague and Prague had on Prague’s Jewish community in the early eighteenth century. The plague hit the Jewish neighborhood much harder than it hit other areas of the city. Noting this, the Habsburg government placed various restrictions on the Jewish community, including forbidding them to make contact with Christians. Teplitsky goes into great detail about how these restrictions affected the Jewish community in Prague, and gives insight into why the neighborhood may have fared worse than others. He explains that Jewish life in Prague was normally very integrated with the Christian world, and that, despite their higher rates of disease, the general public did not blame the Jewish community for the plague. However, there is no central argument to this paper. It simply recites the facts, and remarks on a need for empathy at the end.

The best thing about this paper is its thoroughness. Teplitsky takes us through the impact of this epidemic and the resulting discrimination on various parts of Jewish life, from burial rules to their roles in government. He spends a lot of time discussing Jewish life in Prague before the epidemic, including what factors caused the Jewish neighborhood to be the center of the epidemic. This epidemic was small, and contained to one city, so it is less well-known, but Teplitsky gives the reader all the information they could possibly need. Teplitsky also sets the paper up with a strong framing device, referring to plague stories as stories of heroes and victims, both of whom lack villains. This engages a pandemic-era reader by summing up a feeling that can be hard to express. However, after setting up the expectation of heroes without villains, he abandons this framework, villainizing local rulers who discriminated against Jews. The paper also had very few heroes, save a nameless group of Jews who complained to the ruling empire about said discrimination until the empire intervened on their behalf. This paper also lacks a thesis. There is no central argument, there is only a recitation of facts. Teplitsky engages the reader, but does not go anywhere with their attention.

In the article “Lessons of Hurricane Katrina for American Jews,” Karla Goldman explores the impact and destruction of Hurricane Katrina on the New Orleans community and the Jewish community’s response to the storm. She incorporates the current Covid-19 pandemic and describes the disaster response strategies to Katrina and applicable lessons gathered from the 2005 hurricane to the pandemic. One overarching similarity that Goldman mentions between the two crises is the disproportionate effects on the African American and other minority communities due to a lack of access to health care and public safety. Ultimately, she criticizes the American federal and state government’s continued inability to respond effectively to times of crisis, yet displays how through coming together in times of need, the Jewish community can develop its independent disaster response to assist those in their local communities.

Goldman’s argument is strengthened by her use of listing the valuable lessons learned from the response to Hurricane Katrina and their application to the COVID-19 pandemic. She writes, “History matters…Do not dismiss mainstream Jewish institutions…We are in this together…Put on your mask first…Money isn’t everything” (186-187). Another strength of the article’s argument is Goldman’s overview of the specific successful responses to the Katrina crisis, especially those directed by the Jewish community. These included a systematic effort from the Jewish community, fundraising, mental health services, and food assistance. All of these efforts can be extended and applied to the Covid-19 crisis. Goldman mentions Jewish oral histories collected from Katrina. I believe that something that could have been included to strengthen her argument is the oral histories of Jewish survivors of both Hurricane Katrina and those experiencing the Covid-19 pandemic. A first-hand account of both tragic experiences may strengthen the argument and provide additional insight into the response of the Jewish community and its impact on it. Goldman writes, “As with COVID-19, however, the most devastating impact of Katrina was felt by the city’s poorest, mainly African-American, residents, while people with more resources and white skin privilege were better prepared to navigate the crisis” (184). She highlights that communities of color are more heavily affected in times of crisis like Covid-19 and Hurricane Katrina. However, Goldman fails to pose potential solutions to this problem. While she surfaces effective response strategies implemented during Katrina, they are not targeted to the African American community. She additionally admits that the United States federal and state government have not made much progress in disaster response since Katrina. Rather than proposing solutions, she merely exhibits hope that Covid-19 will result in positive change for the African American and other minority communities.

Goldman, Karla. “Lessons of Hurricane Katrina for American Jews, 2020 Edition.” Jewish Social Studies vol 26, no. 1 (2020): 181.

POEM 1: Written on the day that I left the Bowery* (1805)

Farewell to the Suns early ray

Which thro’ the thin foliage is seen

Farewell, to the Bird on the Spray

And farewell, the now faded green

—–

I go – where Sickness & Death

Have spread their dire influence around

Where Disease was inhaled with the breath**

And the victims of both have been found

—–

Where the Parent with sorrowing eye

Has watched o’er her agonized child

And suppressing the heart-rending sigh

Her feelings – so acute made her wild

In madness that rest was procured

Which Reason could never obtain.

And while its bright power was obscured

She felt a relief from her pain

Such scenes fill the Bosom with woe

And caused the unbidden tear

In unrestrained torrents to flow

On the sad and premature bier

Oh God! may my prayer ascend

And be heard in thy Mighty Domain

My city, oh deign to defend

Let millions not lose (?) thee in vain.

NOTES by me:* The lower part of the city where she lived was evacuated that summer, and the Nathans fled along with most Jews. A marine hospital was set up off Staten Island to treat the sick. Because of the timely evacuation, many fewer died that year than in earlier epidemics.** here she is referring to miasma. Most doctors and lay people believed that people caught yellow fever by breathing in bad smells of decaying things and bodies.

POEM 2 Reflections on passing our new Burial Ground (1829?)

Within those walls made sacred to the dead,

Where yet no spade has rudely turned a sod,

No requiem changed for a spirit fled,

No prayer been offered to the throne of God.

There in due form shall holy rites be given,

And the last solemn strain float so high in Air,

That listening Angels shall bear it to Heaven,

And the soul of the just be deposited there.

—

Perhaps a Head white as Mountains Snow

When colder far, than that its semblance wears

May find a rest where weeping willows grow

And moisten the Graves with the drips of their tears.

And there may the mourner solitary stray

In pensive mood to seek a Mother’s Tomb

And giving range to mem’rys early day

Sorrowing ask why has she gone so soon

Forbear to question—in low submission bend

to Him who rules in graciousness of power

who calls the Beings of his realms below

To place them in his own Eternal Bower.

Mortal let this console _____repine no more

written in the 77th year of my age [ie 1829]

Rafael Monkarsh

Laura Leibman

ENG 303

23 March 2021

Teter, Magda. “The Pandemic, Antisemitism, and the Lachrymose Conception of Jewish History.” Jewish Social Studies, vol. 26, no. 1, 2020, pp. 20–32. Project Muse, doi:10.2979/jewisocistud.26.1.02.

            Against a backdrop of revived anti-Semitic tropes due to the COVID-19 pandemic, Teter ultimately argues for the reconsideration of the thoughts of two prominent Jewish historians, Salo Baron and Cecil Roth. Both Baron and Roth “strove to show Jews not as insular victims of violence but as historical actors integrated into the societies in which they lived,” attempting to divest from the view that Jewish history is primarily about surviving persecution (24). Teter does not aim to completely ignore the oppression and suffering that Jews have faced throughout history; rather, she encourages contemporary scholars and journalists to view anti-Semitism as part of a larger machine which also includes many positive aspects of Jewish life, traditions, and societal contributions (26). In Teter’s eyes, Baron and Roth most recently began this modern movement towards a holistic view of Jewish history, and it would be in today’s Jews’ best interest to continue it.

            Although Teter’s article begins with a strong hook that easily engages a current, pandemic-era reader, she abandons the twenty-first century almost entirely to focus on the thoughts of Baron and Roth. While she repeatedly mentions current versus past thoughts on the history of anti-Semitism, Teter’s refusal to directly bring the discussion back to COVID- and Trump-inspired prejudice results in the reader feeling like they were made an empty promise. By the end of the article, the reader surely has a sense of what her argument is, yet it is not until the last paragraph that it is put into clear focus. Following the introductory few pages, she does posit that current “intellectuals who write about Jews in times of COVID-19 and Trump are distorting Jewish history” (22), yet it is not until the end that she argues that writers “today would do well to revisit and appreciate Baron and Roth’s efforts” to focus on a “much more multifaceted Jewish historical experience” as opposed to one occupied with suffering (29). Establishing the link between the twentieth-century historians and the study of Jewish history today earlier on would have helped the reader maintain a clearer focus on Teter’s goal. Her placement of photos of Roth and Baron within the article might foster an appreciation of the two historians within the reader due to visual acquaintance, but the photos feel unrelated to the discussion beyond the obvious connection (24, 25). Ultimately, Teter presents a convincing case for the revisitation of Baron and Roth’s positions on what should be the perception of modern Jewishness and anti-Semitism. Her strong hook, although left somewhat unfulfilled, is not betrayed by the remainder of her writing, which remains engaging and thoughtful. Teter’s has a prominent sense of historical placement, as she provides context when necessary and understands where Baron, Roth, and herself lie with respect to others’ thoughts. Her penultimate and final paragraphs are perhaps the strongest, as they concisely tie together all of the threads developed throughout the article.

In “Lessons of Hurricane Katrina for American Jews”, Karla Goldman compares the Jewish community’s response to Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans with the ongoing COVID-19 crisis. She examines the strategies employed by the Jewish community which allowed them to effectively respond to the needs of Jewish people and other groups impacted by Katrina. Goldman challenges conventional narratives around the impact of disaster on different groups and how resources ought to be distributed in the face of crisis. Specifically, Goldman highlights the racial and socioeconomic class privilege which many within the Jewish community have. She writes that in the face of disaster, the Jewish community must be able to acknowledge its relative privilege and leverage the lessons from prior experience to extend resources and resiliency to other communities. Her work opens up new possibilities for understanding the role of the Jewish community in American life. By contextualizing the Jewish community in times of crisis, Goldman reimagines the “identity and responsibilities of Jews within the broader tapestry of American diversity” (188).

Goldman tactfully evaluates how the Jewish community understands privilege, resilience, and resources in moments of stress. I appreciate Goldman’s careful description of how the Jewish community benefits from socioeconomic and white privilege while still being inclusive towards nonwhite Jewish people and those who lack socioeconomic status. Her intentional language illustrates the diversity that exists within the Jewish community which may facilitate Jewish people extending help to those outside the community. Goldman could have strengthened her call on Jewish communities to offer resources outside the community by invoking Jewish practices and values which resonate with these actions. Specifically, I feel like a discussion of tzedakah and tikkun olam within the context she presents would lead to productive conversations in the Jewish community. Additionally, I felt the scope of Goldman’s analysis of community resilience lacks attention toward the state entity. While Goldman begins by noting that community response to disaster is only necessary due to governmental failures, she fails to follow through on that line of critique. Goldman lauds Black Lives Matters protesters for making their voices heard. However, when suggesting productive responses in moments of crisis, Goldman focuses on short term immediate solutions and does not examine how the Jewish community could advocate for structural improvements to the system. Goldman could improve her argument by considering ways that the Jewish community could widen the scope of strategies they use to advocate for themselves and others. Ultimately, Goldman’s analysis of Hurricane Katrina and Covid-19 provides valuable insight into the carefully developed and resourceful tactics that the Jewish community uses to recover in the aftermath of disaster.

Sources: Goldman, Karla. “Lessons of Hurricane Katrina for American Jews, 2020 Edition.” Jewish Social Studies 26, no. 1 (2020): 181. https://doi.org/10.2979/jewisocistud.26.1.14.

Laura Arnold Leibman’s academic article Jewish Healers and Yellow Fever in the Eighteenth Century Americas explores how members of the Jewish community have historically contributed to helping others during health crises while challenging harmful stereotypes surrounding Jews and their relation to pandemics. While many academics have acknowledged that antisemitism has fueled rhetoric linking Jews to disease, Leibman argues that pandemic related prejudices are often rooted in even deeper fears surrounding the legitimacy of Jewish citizenship within the Americas. Without considering this standpoint, academics fail to acknowledge how the factors of racism, epidemics, and capitalism have essentially worked together to ensure the delegitimization of Jews not only in the medical field, but in the Americas as a whole. Despite the valiant efforts and subsequent successes of Jewish medics during these epidemics, as is exemplified in the careers of David Cohen Nassy, Matthias Nassy, and Walter Jonas Judah, antisemitism in the context of pandemics has persisted, ultimately ignoring the influential part Jews have played in confronting disease outbreaks. 

Leibman’s claim is best reflected through her careful analysis of several Jewish healers, David Cohen Nassy, Matthias Nassy, and Walter Jonas Judah, active helpers in the midst of the United States yellow fever epidemics during the late eighteenth century. Much of her argument is detailed through the lens of early scientific racism, which “both enabled and marred the Jewish experience of the Enlightenment” depending on one’s race and ethnicity (Leibman, 79). This was a key factor in discrediting Jews for their work within the medical community, often using their statuses as Jews of color to downplay their role in combating yellow fever. David Cohen Nassy, a Portuguese Jew from Suriname, had incredible success when treating patients for yellow fever and even published extensive research on yellow fever; however, American academics failed to acknowledge Nassy’s efforts and rather fixated on the “low number of Jewish deaths” from yellow fever, a fact that was ruminated on by non-Jews with an air of suspicion (81). Surinamese immigrant and former slave Matthias Nassy, who worked as a nurse alongside David Cohen Nassy, was similarly discredited, not only on the basis of religion, but because he had African ancestry. Even after being freed through the Emancipation Act of 1780, Matthias’s service was “undercut” by various academics and publishers. This includes publisher Matthew Carey, who only mentioned Matthias’s work in his publications to criticize the labor of non-white nurses, the rates Black workers charged for joining hospital staff or assisting with burials, etc. Jewish erasure within the medical field is further exemplified by the fact that the efforts of these men are hard to track within history; David Cohen Nassy was able to maintain a legacy through self promotion, however, our understanding of Matthias’s life remains vague. All of these examples relating to non-Jewish reception of established Jewish figures speaks to the antisemitism present in the eighteenth century, which illustrated Jews not as benevolent and altruistic, but rather as sneaky, conniving outsiders not worthy of integrating into early American society. 

Being that this article appeared to me to have many great strengths, I would like to begin by touching on some minor weaknesses. While I enjoyed reading about the life of Walter Jonas Judah, whose life was “shaped” by yellow fever, I thought his story diverged slightly from those of David and Matthias, who were more directly involved in the medical field (83). I was also prompted to wonder as to if Judah’s death could almost be considered something that would break down antisemitic stereotypes in relation to health crises, as the general American public appeared to be so suspicious of how many Jews were unaffected by yellow fever. 

One strength of Leibman’s article lies in her ability to clearly and concisely lay out the stories of three very different Jewish men from a similar time period. With an already gripping argument about the impact of pandemics on the Jewish community, the rich analysis of the Nassy men and Judah further strengthened Leibman’s claim while also giving an in depth insight into Jewish life in the Americas during the eighteenth century. With Leibman so carefully crafting the timeline in which these events took place and effectively contrasting the public’s perception of Jewish healers versus the realities of their respective situations, it was incredibly easy to be convinced by her argument. Something I also perceived as being very strong in Leibman’s essay was the way in which she articulated her thoughts, which made the material more accessible to me as a young college student who is not totally familiar with the grave impact that epidemics had on the Jewish community. The fact that this topic is also so closely related to events that we are experiencing day to day with the presence of the coronavirus also helped to keep me engaged with the material and curious to figure out what stereotypes we are still being used today. 

Despite the attempts of antisemites to discredit Jews for their contributions to fighting against epidemics throughout history, Laura Arnold Leibman’s article directly denounces the myth of Jewish self interest altogether. Instead, we are made to understand the constant charity, altruism, and work that Jews put into their communities on a daily basis. Perhaps they did not receive the recognition that they deserved for their efforts in the eighteenth century Americas, but we can work to celebrate the progress they made in present time. 

Works Cited

Leibman, Laura Arnold. “Jewish Healers and Yellow Fever in the Eighteenth-Century Americas.” Jewish Social Studies, vol. 26 no. 1, 2020, p. 77-90. Project MUSE muse.jhu.edu/article/ 774653.